


Wired This Way

by reservoirpups



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Animal Death, Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 11:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1777609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reservoirpups/pseuds/reservoirpups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abed Nadir has never had to deal with death until his pet rat, Fievel, passes away unexpectedly. Troy and the rest of the group worry about Abed's seemingly indifference to the death of his beloved friend until Troy realizes that maybe he is the one that has more learning to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wired This Way

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends, this is my first Community fic as I'm relatively new to the fandom. But the hurt/comfort tag was in dire need of some attention. Some of the timeline may be a little wonky compared to canon, but there isn't any new information needed to know to understand what's going on :)

It was no news to anyone that had the pleasure of being in the one Abed Nadir presence that the guy was frustrating as Hell.

Even Abed himself knew it, whether or not he decided to show that when he let his tongue slip a little too freely. Troy had figured out pretty quickly that he was probably the first person in Abed’s life to only to just deal with all the baggage that came with Abed, but to act like all the shit that was tossed at him was just the usual. Troy was there to diffuse any situation that Abed had stumbled into blindly and was the only one who could somewhat understand how the cogs in Abed’s mind churned, even if it was only a fraction.

But even then, Troy had his moments of sharp inhales of breath with a clenched jaw. And then there was that goddamn lab rat.

It had taken almost all of Troy strength to sit through a weeks worth of exposure to the small, furry ball of damnation in the first place, much to Abed’s amusement. The way it’s bald tail swayed to and fro as it scampered around the cage on top of the counter tops of the genetics room was enough to send itching down Troy’s spine and a grimace every time he met its beady gaze.

Of course, Abed had taken a liking to the small creature. He would smirk and tickle his

finger against the rat’s soft fur while Troy clenched his jaw and kept at least a foot away from the counter top. He had even caught Abed murmuring conversation to it after lab hours were over. So it really shouldn’t have been a surprise when Abed and Troy decided to move in together, the white cage appeared to have been propped on top of the coffee table out of nowhere.

And that’s how it had started. Troy had dropped that bag of groceries on the floor, being too temporarily stunned to react the smashing of beer bottles in the bag at his feet where the rest of the groceries had scattered. Abed had only raised an eyebrow from his seat in the armchair in front of the TV.

“You kept it?” Troy tried to say evenly, not taking his eyes off the small white rat that had taken quite the interest in the source of the loud crashing noise.

“You know his name is Fievel, and of course I did. They were sending all the rats to a testing facility after we had finished with them. He’s been living with me ever since.” Abed had shrugged, turning back to the TV.

“No. Abed...no! I’m not living with that thing!” Troy argued, raising his voice steadily.

Troy hadn’t missed the twitch in Abed’s jaw, thus producing three hours of yelling back and forth, only ending when abed looked at Troy with tears in his eyes and said “I can’t connect with people as easily as I can connect to animals. Why would you want to take that away from me?”, which Troy knew he couldn’t win an argument against.

It wasn’t until months later did Troy learn that Abed had a particular talent for being able to cry on demand for no reason whatsoever. It didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would.

The furry white mass had almost become an extension of Abed that Troy had learned to get used to. Not that he had warmed up the creature any more than he had initially, but Abed was respectful and made sure to give Troy his space when Fievel was clutched between his fingers. Troy had learned to control his gag reflex a little easier, but it didn’t stop the goosebumps across his skin at the noise of tiny claws scuttling around the cage.

He wouldn’t admit it, but he couldn’t help but smile a little at how happy Fievel made Abed. The rat would sit politely on Abed’s shoulder while he watched TV in his armchair, and sometimes Abed would take him into the Dreamatorium when Troy was too busy studying. Troy had never seen Abed smile so genuinely at a person as he did with his small animal companion, which took a couple weeks to ignore the pangs of jealousy. But Troy stopped complaining because he had never seen Abed so comfortable and at ease with another entity.

And that’s why Troy immediately knew that something was wrong on the Tuesday afternoon when he got back to the apartment after his late afternoon dance class to find Abed staring blankly at the powerless TV. The apartment was completely silent and Abed didn’t even look up as Troy closed the door behind him and tossed his backpack to the side. Troy raised his eyebrow, watching Abed carefully.

“Everything alright, buddy? You seem a little distant.” Troy asked, giving Abed enough distance as he had learned through experience.

“It’s dead.” Abed said simply, still not looking up. His voice was quiet and dull.

“What, the TV? I can take a look at it and see what I can do-” Troy started towards the TV before Abed finally moved his gaze up, looking a little dazed.

“Not the TV, the rat.”

“The...Fievel?” Troy looked confused before glancing towards the cage. It was oddly silent.

“I didn’t really know what to do.”

“Jesus, Abed, why didn’t you call me?” Troy went quickly to the cage and the sight confirmed what Abed had told him. There was Fievel, laying still atop of the shredded newspaper in the middle of the cage. Troy took a deep breath, looking up towards the ceiling to calm himself for a moment before opening the front of the cage and putting his hand in to brush against the small white rat. It was cold and stiff, making Troy swallow back a whine as he pulled his hand back quickly. Fievel had definitely croaked. Troy ignored the hollow feeling in his chest.

“I know you didn’t like Fievel but I wanted to wait until you got home to do anything. You’re usually better at this kind of thing than I am. I suppose you can just put it in the dumpster now.” Abed voice was even more void than usual. He was now taking particular interest in a loose thread from the arm of the chair he was in.

“It? I don’t get it...you loved Fievel.” Troy said quietly, glancing at the small rat again. “We can have a burial, wherever you want. I can get the group together and we can-”

“That’s not Fievel.” Abed’s voice raised in volume just the slightest and he stiffly glanced over his shoulder at Troy. “That’s a dead rat. I don’t understand the point.”

“Look...we’ll talk about this later, alright? Have you eaten today?” Troy took one last look at the cage before moving closer to Abed.

“I think I’m just going to go to the Dreamatorium for a couple hours and then maybe go to bed early.” Abed said more to himself than anyone else, pulling himself up from the worn armchair.

Troy sighed, watching Abed cross the room before he closed the door behind him. He didn’t know what exactly to do. He couldn’t just leave the rat as it was, but he also couldn’t just throw it out like yesterday’s garbage. Troy was disgusted by the creature and even he wouldn’t be so flippant about its death.

He stood in the middle of the apartment for a while, chewing at his lip before letting out a small sigh and crossed toward the bedroom. He fished under the bottom bunk on his hands and knees for a few moments before finding what he was looking for and pulling it out from under the bed slowly.

It was a badly put together wooden box that Troy had made in his high school wood shop class. The edges were all wrong and one of the hinges had fallen off. He breathed lightly as he wiped the dust off the top of the lid. Inside were reminiscences of everything that used to be. He pulled out the items carefully - pictures in his football uniform, a flyer from running for prom king, college acceptance letters, old booty call phone numbers, and a crumpled up flyer for Greendale Community College. He couldn’t help but smile at the last one, putting everything carefully to the side until the box was empty. He’d put everything back into an old shoe box or something.

Troy walked back to the apartment’s main space, box in hand. He braced himself before opening the rat’s cage and scooping the lifeless form into his hands before moving it gently to the box, all while biting his lip hard with an expression that looked to be on the verge of tears. He let out a small whine of disgust, sliding the box carefully onto the table before letting his whole body spasm for a moment.

He tried to ignore the lecture he would probably get from Abed on how unsanitary a dead rat on the table was and fell back heavily into his armchair with a loud sigh. He would wait until Abed had had enough space to himself in the Dreamatorium and then he would make sure that he got to bed and slept enough before class tomorrow. But his plan was cut short when he added up drifting off in the chair, his body twisted uncomfortably.

When he woke up, he found himself tucked up in Abed’s favorite blanket. Troy let out a small groan, squinting from the sunlight that was pouring through the open curtains.

Abed was perched on the counter top when Troy stumbled into the kitchen, hunched over a bowl of coco puffs.

“I was going to let you sleep for another ten minutes but this works too.” Abed said, glancing at the oven’s clock.

“Good morning, Abed.” Troy murmured, grabbing the container of orange juice from the fridge. He took a sip before glancing at the clock and spitting up some of the juice over his chin. “Jesus Christ, class starts in ten minutes!”

“It looked like you needed sleep, which you clearly did.” Abed sounded confused, as if he didn’t understand why the situation was his fault. Which in fairness to him, if Troy had slept in the bedroom, he would have woken up with the alarm. Why hadn’t he slept in the bedroom? He narrowed his eyes, looking out at the table which still held up the wooden box. The wooden box that contained a dead rat. Troy let out a groan, putting the orange juice back in the fridge.

“Get ready, I need to brush my teeth.” Troy sighed, moving quickly out of the kitchen.

“Way ahead of you.” Abed called out, pointing behind himself to show he already had his backpack on.

Troy rushed through his morning routine, skipping as much as he could before grabbing his car keys off the coat hanger and pulling Abed by the strap of his backpack down the flight of stairs. Traffic was mostly in their favor, as they arrived to Spanish class only a minute late, though out of breath.

Señor Chang had been in the middle of screaming at the class while stood on top of his desk when Troy and Abed stuck their heads into the door. He jumped down and was advancing towards Starburns when Abed shoved Troy, whispering “now” before they both stuck silently into their desks behind Chang’s back. The rest of the group shot them questioning looks which Troy ignored, still half asleep. Well, everyone but Jeff, who only rolled his eyes behind his phone.

The rest of class was mostly uneventful, which only gave Troy more time to think about the decaying animal in their apartment. How long would it take a rat to decompose, anyway? What if they got home and their apartment was filled with a putrid smell that never went away? What if the rat was gone from the box and was waiting for him in his bunk-

Troy hardly registered the shake to his shoulder, but it was enough to make him rub his eyes and look up. The rest of the group was staring at him with a concerned look. Britta’s hand was still on his shoulder.

“Are you okay, Troy? Class is over.” Britta said carefully, searching his face.

“Yeah, fine, sorry. Just tired.” Troy forced a smile, grabbing his bag and pulling himself up from the desk. “Abed, could grab me an energy drink from the vending machine to wake me up? Here’s some extra change so you can get some gummy worms, too.”

Abed smiled lightly as he accepted the coins into his palm, giving the rest of the group a short nod. “Cool. Cool cool cool. I’ll meet you in the study room.”

Troy watched Abed leave the class before turning to the rest of them.

“Troy, what is going on?” Annie asked, raising an eyebrow as she adjusted the strap of her backpack.

“We need to talk.” Troy said quietly. There was a loud banging noise, making everyone jump. Chang had slammed his palms down on his desk with an annoyed expression.

“If you’re just going to pretend I’m not here then save yourself the trouble and do it elsewhere.” He said, sounding mildly offended.

“Trust me, we’d be happy to.” Jeff smiled patronizingly before leading the rest of the group out of the class.

 

* * *

 

“You mean to tell me that you currently have a dead rat on your dining room table?” Pierce asked skeptically, leaning forward in his chair.

“Pierce! That’s not the problem!” Annie sighed, shooting Pierce a dirty look. “Though it is extremely...unsanitary...we have to think about Abed right now.”

“Don’t take this to heart, Troy.” Shirley said softly, patting Troy’s hand across the table top. “We all know how Abed is. Well, we try to, anyway. What’s important is we support him through this. Have you perhaps talked about the afterlife with him? Not that I think rats exactly make it up there in The Lord’s arms but…”

“Thanks, Shirley.” Troy sighed. “I don’t think it’s even worth bring up. We all know Abed doesn’t really practice much these days and anyway, I think he understands the situation perfectly. I just think...he doesn’t know how to react to it. Maybe he does deep down but he’s too freaked out to show it.”

“Have we even considered why Fievel died in the first place? I mean, where did the Science Department even get them from? Probably some sort of sick testing facility. I think what we need to do is contact-”

“Britta, it was a three year old pet rat, please, for the love of God, don’t treat this like a murder investigation.” Jeff finally held his head up from where he had been resting against his palms with a bored expression. “If anything, you guys are the ones that need to the help. Have you heard yourselves? So the guy doesn’t care that his pet rat died. Most people would call that ability a gift. Why are we even questioning this? Unless he comes in here with an ax in hand and finally snaps, I think we can safely drop this whole thing.”

The group paused for a moment, as if expecting Abed to burst through the doors welding an ax that would be planted into each of their skulls. Troy finally let out a sigh of frustration, sinking back into his chair.

“You guys didn’t see the way he was with that rat like I did. He loved Fievel and looked after him better than he did himself. I just want him to know that it’s okay to talk about it. I didn’t have anyone to talk to about my Grandma dying and it really...messed a lot of stuff up.”

Annie and Shirley let out a sad “aww” while Pierce rolled his eyes, mumbling that they were never going to pass Spanish at this rate.

Just then, Abed walked through the doors. He took a couple strides before stopping, surveying everyone curiously.

“Who died?” He asked with a straight face, making everyone glance at each other with widened eyes. “Sorry, bad timing. I expect Troy informed you all about Fievel and you’re grieving.”

“Oh yeah, I’m just torn up inside.” Jeff muttered.

Abed sat himself down, pulling out five packs of gummy worms. “Sorry Troy, they were out of energy drinks so I just bought myself gummy worms.”

“That’s okay, buddy.” Troy sat himself up straighter, clearing his throat and looking around the table.

“We were all just…talking about our feelings, Abed. How we felt about Fievel’s passing.” Britta nodded, giving Abed a sympathetic look. “How are you feeling about it?”

Abed shrugged. “Fine.”

“Sweetie, you know it’s perfectly alright to be sad, right?” Shirley asked.

“I don’t understand, I thought none of you actually liked Fievel. I thought you would be a little sad because people normally are about death but I didn’t expect this.” Abed cocked his head to the side.

“For Pete’s sake, the man clearly doesn’t give a rat’s ass, no pun intended.” Pierce said with a smug grin. The pun was clearly intended. No one laughed.

“I just think we should bury Fievel. Together. Maybe on Greendale grounds tonight.” Troy suggested, glancing around the table before drawing his attention back to Abed.

“I’m meeting up with a very lovely-” Jeff stopped himself, catching Britta’s glare and sighing. “Yeah, tonight works. Sure.”

“If it really means that much to you guys, then okay.” Abed said flatly before opening a pack of gummy worms and dangling one into his mouth.

“So it’s settled.” Annie said officially, settling back into her chair. “We’ll all meet here around...seven?”

Shirley kicked Piece under the table when he groaned.

“This is your special box.” Abed noted after they had buckled in their seat belts. Abed was running his fingers over the box curiously when Troy glanced at him after he had pulling into the street.

“How did you know that?” Troy furrowed his brow. “It’s been under the bunk since we moved in.”

“I assumed nothing in the apartment was off limits.”

Troy shrugged slightly. It wasn’t like he had anything to hide, but it was weird thinking of Abed going through articles of his old life. It was probably like looking at pictures of a whole different person.

“It’s not that special anymore.” Troy said with a small shrug. “None of that stuff really matters now, anyway.”

“And a dead rat does?”

“Yeah, Fievel does.” Troy nodded. The rest of the ride was silent, but Troy didn’t miss seeing the small smile on Abed’s features as he held the box a little tighter.

Abed was mostly silent throughout the small ceremony that the group held. Shirley said a prayer that made Annie and Troy have to bite their lips to avoid the stinging in their eyes. Jeff gave a speech that was clearly bullshitted on the spot, but it was a Jeff Winger Speech that had even Abed giving off the slightest hint of a smile.

It was decided that Fievel was to be buried in the bushes next to the wishing well on the north side of the campus. Troy held the shovel firming in his hands as he dug a small hole in the dirt, trying not to think about the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was one of the few moments the group was silent. No complaints or backhanded comments. There was just the sound of the metal shovel as it parted the dirt quietly.

Troy straightened his back, scrubbing a hand across his face before stepping back from the bushes.

“Abed, do you want me to do it?” he asked, reaching his hand out for the box.

“No, it’s okay. I think I should probably do it.” Abed said after a small pause. He looked down at the box thoughtfully before stepping past Troy and crouching over. “Goodbye, Fievel. You were a good friend.”

The box was gently lowered into the dirt. Abed moved the dirt that had been dug up with his own hands, covering the box without much hesitation and patting the dirt back down neatly when none of it was left visible. When he stood back up, he gave everyone a small smile, though even Troy couldn’t tell if it was forced or not.

Abed had quietly thanked everyone, resulting in him being pulled into a big group hug that even Jeff participated in. Troy rested his head lightly on Abed’s shoulder before pulling away.

The drive home was silent on both of their ends, apart from Abed’s fiddling with the radio. He hadn’t let one song finish before he would switch to a different station. Normally Troy would have something to say about that but instead he focused on the road, letting Abed occupy himself before they got home.

Troy tossed his keys onto the table while Abed locked the door behind them. Troy glanced towards the white cage by the window giving it a thought before going to the kitchen and opening the door to the fridge.

“Beer?”

“I think so.”

He grabbed two bottles, kicking the fridge door closed behind him. The apartment was weird now. The silence was so much more obvious without the sounds of little claws scampering around the cage on top of the small coffee table. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just noticeable that something was missing from it all.

Troy found Abed in the bedroom, curled up on Troy’s bottom bunk. Troy offered him a small smile before holding out the opened beer bottle, which Abed took gratefully.

“I’m sorry about this whole thing.” Abed mumbled when Troy sad down on the bed next to him.

“Abed, none of this is your fault, okay?” Troy furrowed his eyebrows, setting his bottle of beer aside on the bedside table. Abed sighed, pulling himself up and doing the same.

“Not...the Fievel thing. I’m sorry about me. I’m sorry that I’m like...this. I don’t mean to be different from the rest of you. I just don’t really get it sometimes.” Abed played with the stitches on one of Troy’s blankets.

“The thing about grief is that everyone deals with it in their own way. When my grandma died, I locked myself in my room for a week and just cried my eyes out. Wouldn’t let anyone see me. My dad on the other hand drank a lot. There’s nothing different about you when it’s normal to be different in this kind of circumstance. I just...wanted to make sure that if you did want to talk about it or anything, you knew it would be okay.”

Abed made a frustrated noise at the back of his throat, tossing the blanket he had been keeping his hands busy with to the floor.

“But it’s just not fair! I want to understand...You didn’t even like Fievel! And you’re allowed to be upset about it so why can’t I? Why does my mind not let to me be upset like you and all the others are?” Abed’s hands moved up and down rapidly as he got more upset. Troy kept silent for a few minutes, allowing Abed to let out the pent up steam he had been holding in.

Abed climbed out from the bunk, his fingers tangled in his hair. Troy watched carefully as Abed paced back and forth, face screwed up tightly. There was a loud thud as Abed’s fist landed against the dresser, making it tremble and the lamp that had been perched on top tumbled down to the floor with a crashing sound.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Troy said quickly, pulling himself up and grabbing Abed in his arms so he was restrained. Abed struggled against Troy’s grip for a few moments before giving up and slumping against his chest.

“Sorry.” He said with a dull tone. Troy tutted, pulling the hand Abed had punched the dresser with upwards for a closer look. His knuckles were a little bloody, not bad, but enough to be sore for a week.

Troy slowly unhinged his grip, taking Abed gently by the arm and leading him out of the bathroom. He instructed him to take a seat on the edge of the tub as he rummaged through the medicine cabinet.

“I’m messed up, aren’t I?”

“No.” Troy said with finality, gripping the bottle of antiseptic harder than he should have. He took a breath before pouring some of the solution onto one of the cotton balls from under the sink. “If you’re messed up, then that doesn’t say much about me.”

“We can both be messed up.” Abed said simply.

Troy turned around with a small smile on the edge of his lips. “Fair enough.”

Abed hummed lightly as Troy cleaned the small cuts on his hand. It wasn’t until Troy had finished wrapping Abed’s hand that he realized he was humming “Somewhere Out There”, the song they had trained Fievel to respond to those couple years ago, back when Troy and Abed were still just getting to know each other.

“Don’t ever change for anyone, okay? Not even me when I think I know what’s best for you. Promise?” Troy smoothed his hand through Abed's hair with a smirk.

“Yeah, promise.”

They each did their handshake, Troy making sure to tap Abed’s hand more gently than usual until he was tugged down by his wrist, his lips colliding with Abed’s. Troy let out a small surprised noise from the back of his throat, making Abed smile against his lips.

Abed usually knew what was for the best more often than not.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you ever want to talk Community with me or just post a lot of Community on tumblr, you can find me at dirttgrub.tumblr.com !!!


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